The Dickinson press., 1887-04-16
AN ACTRESS SPEAKS PoINTEDLy OF
GREAT GRIEVANCE.
Accommodations Out OF Town That Arc
a Disgrace to Manngers-Experienco In
roaches.A Nnlsance.

u Disgrace to Observation-Disclosures In
u Den Infested With villalnous Cock
roaches-A Nuisance.
Tho radiant adolescent was talking to tho
sunny haired actress, or rather was drawing
her out and doing tho listening. He was one
OF those little, STACEY men who blink and look
Wise when they know nothing about tho sub
ject i'll hand, and who maintain an appear
ancc OF hlandly sto!id imbecility when their
mind is not quito n blank.
"And so they treat you so badly behind the
scencs.,' he said smoothly y, as tho sunny haired
actress tried to clean q pink satin slipper with
ammonia and then made II wry face because
the pungent chemical "wcnt up her nose"
ruthlessly. ~ wouldn't stand it, by Jove, not
for a minute"
"Oh, yes you would" said tho littlo lady,
making another ammonia dab; you'd stand
a great deal more than l do: you'd jump if
you got the chance, ha! ha! You SEQ, VIC all
expect too much. Now, before l went upon
the stage l used to imagine that each evening
L should be shown to dainty little dressing
room, richly carpetcd, handsomely furnished,
be-looking glassed, be-chaired and be-sofa'd.
was idiotic enough to suppose that the man.
asemcnt would supply a wardrobe in which
could keep my dresses, my properties and
everything to which l laid claim. Instead of
all this-oh, my heart sinks when l remember
it,
You don't mean to say that you don't get
decent places to dress and undress in!' asked
the radiant adolcscent, possessing himself Of
n pink slipper and standing it OH its little big
heel.
IN THE u TOWNS.
"Listen," she said tragically, striking an
attitude like the ~favorite pose of Fanny Dav-
EXPORT in "Felora." "I'm not going to tell
you anything about New York dressing
rooms, becausc-well, l don't know very
much about them, and my engagements
ahem.-call me principally to the provinces,
but l can tell you all about the accommoda-
tions out of town. They arc simply villain
Gus. They are a disgrace to tho managers OF
theatres. Now, in ono town l visited-l
won't mention namcs-I was shown my dress
ing room by the manager himself, who TOLD
mo he thought 1t such al improvement on
the general run of dressing rooms. 1t wa.
a wooden box, not as large as one
of the bathing rooms at tho Battery
baths. On one of the walls was q piece
of cracked mirror, which made my poor nose
look as though it were cut up into sections,
and gave me a CHASTITY tint which nc amount
ApuSt NpuNl 1tIlloSe. 1IcIe WcIC Culllke
everywhere, and if there had been ono OF
those peeping Toms, one of whom frightened
Mrs. Langtry so much at Birmingham, ]
grievel to think of tho predicament l should
have been in. Was it cold! Well, 1 should say
it was. hat night 1 shivered in my poor lit
tie s~lippers-those very pink satin ones. ]
came to the theatre from a hot dining room,
in tho full process of digesting my repast.
You can imagine with what danger to my
health I was forced to undrcss, put on a low
bodice, and stand with trembling shoulders
while rouged myself, gloved myself, and
concluded myself. If my constitution hadn't
become accustomed to such exposure l should
have died. I'm going to tell you moro terrible
things. AT one theatre l went to, l was
positively shown to q dressing room without
u door-not a vestige of one. If l chose to
dress in it, 1 must do SO i'll spite of the stage
carpenters md mon of all work who passed
and rcpassed"-
sBut You didn't choose, 1 trust"
"No, | thought it best not to do so. de.
clined to divest myself of a stitch until u tenn
porarv door of some kind or other had been
rugged up for me-. Of course the mon Of all
work were most unwilling to help me, SO ]
kept every ono waiting by first hunting for a
sheet, mailing it carefully whero the door
should nave been, and then dressing. Next
day l found n door-a brand new thing, but
still n door. and though it had no lock, l was
very thankful for 1t.
AN INFESTED DEN.
"Whilo ] was still new to the business"
continued the sunny haired actress, sitting
down by the radiant adolescent, II had to
play the part Of a bride i'll n little far away
place with ono thcatre-a grand opera house,
of course, where grand opera never could,
would or should be heard. / had q magnifi.
cent white satin dress, on which l prided my
self extremely. 1 caused it to be sent to the
theatre to my dressing room to await me
there in the evening. 1 went early. Imay
say that l was feeling very nervous and un.
strung, and when 1 feel like that [simpering]
everything upsets me. Well, tho evening
came. l was shown to my dressing room.
Such a place! Such q vile, cold, contempti-
bic, baro den! l was undresscd and was just
taking up my white bridal robe to put on,
when to my disgust, my horror, my loathing,
l saw insects crawling over it. uttered a
Shrek, dropped it, and l think l tainted.
Anyway l don't remember how two Of my
colleagues got into my room, but there they
were. My den was literally infested as with
a plague. There were cockroaches i'll all di-
Observation-Disclosures to right, cockroncles
to left-the most disgusting, persistent, con-
tinuous stream of the-to me-terrible little
insects. What could do! I had either to
put my dress on or disappoint the audience
and relinquish my salary. l put my dress
on. l went shudderingly through my part.
but my cockroaches kept making ne amental
visit, md when the critics next morning said
that 1 seemed to be playing with Il prcoccupied
~.s.1 r 4ls,,1x xl,~,, sos, -lo.ol1 -----1A T..
their surmises.
"In a very great many theatres" she went
on, "you find the walls Of your dressing room
undiscovered with legends which some
playful predecessor in u fit of abstraction has
left to Immortality. They are mostly excla.
nations, and though they are biblical they
are not elegant. You get weary OF Jumping
J%ehosaphat' and Holy Moses, when you sec
them at intervals of half an inch where your
wall paper ought to be. 1 tell you that the
dressing room nuisance is ono of the biggest
nuisances of the day-to us. We stand moi
tho least chance of having their condition
ameliorated. We are in the hands of the
managers. They can do rs they like with us
Our grievances can never be ventilated, as
no one is sufficiently interested in us to hel1
us. People only care for what they can see
They know that we always. or generally, lool
nice, and it lisa matter of complete indiffer
ence to the general public by what means we
look nice. In many respects ours is a thank
less profession-there's no doubt about that
And the radiant adolescent, looking up ir
her face, did not dare to express n doubt, anc
as his face was a gentle blank on all occa
sions he had no difficulty in appearing pleas
ingly vacuous.-Ncw York Times Interview